Crushed
by HorrorZombabe
Summary: Hawke has a distorted self image, which only gets worse after her crush on a certain Tevinter elf is revealed and Fenris leaves her after their rough coupling. FHawke x Fenris written for the kmeme, very nsfw
1. Chapter 1

It's been a long ass week dealing with smugglers and slavers and Hawke had had enough. Enough fighting, enough mud, enough aching muscles, enough burning tang of lyrium down her throat, enough nagging between the other apostate mage and a certain Tevinter elf, and not enough damn rest. Marian nearly tore off her pauldrons before collapsing on the bed she hadn't slept in for weeks. Carver followed her through the estate, boring holes into the back of her head, more than likely peeved that she left him behind again.

"I'm just as capable as-"

"Save it," Hawke mumbled. "I'm tired. Need sleep. The usual at the Hanged Man tonight. Wake me later."

Her voice was muffled by the various pillows cushioning her head. She was still clothed in her slightly oversized robes when she fell asleep. She had lost a sizable amount of weight since Lothering, but it just wasn't enough. Many potential employers eyed her because of her size, and she knew what they were thinking-she was fat so she couldn't get the job done. Well, sorry for not being your ideal type.

It was always the same, it didn't matter if she'd proven herself dozens of times. They would take one look and not expect her to suit their needs. Same goes for men, too many rejections because of the doughy flesh that lined her midsection. Either that or it would be one night and she would be left behind and feeling used. They would take her out and it was always like it was expected that she would sleep with them. And she always had, afraid of losing their approval if she didn't give them what they wanted. It never mattered though, a soon as Isabella walked by or arrived unannounced as she tended to do, all swaying hips and gravity defying bust, they lost all interest in chubby Marian.

But then there was him, the tattooed elf that had been traveling with them. She couldn't quite make out his intentions- apparently he was content spending time with her, just drinking wine and talking by the fire. He even attempted flattery, or at least he said he'd try to improve. Oh, how that half smile made her heart flutter. But Marian knew he wasn't really interested. She was a mage, and he made it known on several occasions that it was not welcome. The fact that he wasn't interested didn't keep him from approaching her in her dreams, however, and Hawke drifted to sleep with thoughts of him on her mind.

. . .

They were wandering along the coast, just the two of them, searching out herbs for Anders, if Marian could remember correctly. Curious, Fenris wouldn't usually agree to such a task, especially not with the gleeful look he had when she approached him. No matter, he was here now and it was just them, the coast, and the brisk clean air.

"I'm glad you asked for me to accompany you," he said, suddenly laying his hand on her arm. He had never been one for touching, but she wasn't about to question it after longing for it for so long. His usual spiked armor was absent, leaving his fingers bare against her skin. And he was smiling genuinely. Wait, Fenris smiling? He wouldn't go anywhere without armor.

Hawke looked down at the game around her forearm and down further to look at her own attire. Her noble clothing. Why would she wear this out to the coast?

"I have something I wanted to ask you, Hawke," he said tenderly, stepping closer to her and wrapping his arm around her waist.

"Unhand me!" Hawke shouted, pushing him away.

Fenris stilled and gave her a hurt look. "I had thought. . . that you cared for me, the way I care for you. . ."

"You cannot trick me, demon!" Hawke pulled her arm from his grasp.

"You don't think that I wouldn't want you? I care for you, Hawke. I am no demon," the imposter insisted.

"Fenris would never- he would never be like this. He would never be caring or tender, especially not to me!" Hawke spat, stepping away from the dark spirit wearing the elf's face.

"He may not be. But I can, I can give you this. I won't care that you are a mage. , In fact, I will love you-"

"No! Get out! This is my dream, this is mine and you don't belong here!" Hawke hissed, pulling her staff from her back.

The demon used his face to frown at her. "He will never love you. You will always be a fat, disgusting mage to him, just like those he escaped in Tevinter. And if you do get him, he won't stay. He will be like the others and use your body because it is convenient and leave," It promised, "But I can offer you happiness. We can stay here and-"

Hawke smashed her staff over the head of the imposter, waking in her own bed, the demon's words echoing in her head. These dreams have become more frequent, always involving him. Hawke let out a deep breath and wiped at her forehead, damp with sweat. She darted her hand under her mattress to reach for her journal, but found nothing. Panic swept through her and she jumped out of bed, searching with both hands under the fine linens to find the book of her private thoughts.

"Messire? Are you awake? Shall I draw a bath?" Bodhain called from the hallway. Hawke's gave darted to the clock. She was late for the meeting at the Hanged Man.

"No, no, I don't have time," she said quickly undressing and redressing in clean clothing, dabbing at her blood caked skin with a damp rag until the basin of water on the table turned red.

"Your brother left not too long ago, said not to disturb you-" Bodhain started when she exited the room.

"Carver?" she narrowed her eyes. "Was he caring anything with him when he left?"

"I did not notice-"

The door slammed and Hawke ran off across Hightown. After several minutes of running, she found herself it of breath and nearing Lowtown. She slowed and continued on into the usual tavern, hearing laughter coming from Varric's suite.

It's not what you think, she thought to herself. You're overreacting. You just misplaced your journal and Carver thought to let you rest, that's all.

But as she climbed the stairs, her fears were confirmed as Carver's cove echoed through the hall. "Oh, this sounds juicy!" he sadhus with a chuckle.

"I really don't think you should be reading that. Those are her private thoughts," she heard Anders say.

"Aww, come on, Blondie! She never lets anyone in. Don't you wasn't to know what she's thinking?" Varric countered. Hawke's heart raced as she rushed up the stairs.

"From what I hear, she lets everyone in," Isabella laughed, voice dripping with innuendo. "But I suppose her body is different than her mind. Go on, Carver."

"'I had a dream of him tonight'" Carver recited from the pages, "'I admit that I have been thinking of him much as of late. But I will leave it to be a dream. The cause is too important and he will never think of me in the same way."

"The cause? Ah, so she's got it out for Blondie then!" Varric laughed.

Hawke stood in the doorway, hands shaking in rage. "You will stop immediately," she ordered.

"Hawke! How wonderful, you're finally here!" Merrill said happily. "We were just taking about you."

"Give it back, Carver," Hawke said sternly, holding her hand out for the book.

"I don't think so, sister." Carver chuckled darkly and moved out if her reach. "'Again, I had a dream of him,'" he taunted, maneuvering easily out of her grasp. "'I'm pretty sure it was a demon, but it was nice feeling that I could be at least a little attractive to him."

Carver stepped out of the way as she lunged for him. "Honestly, falling prey to a demon," he scolded.

"Give it back, brat!" she shouted a the others just looked on. Hawke realized for the first time that he, Fenris, was here too, sitting in a chair in the corner. She had to get the book back before-

"'He will never care for me, just as the demon said. I will always remind him of the fat, slovenly magister overlords that had enslaved him.' Wait, this is about-"

But Hawke was already gone, tears silently rolling down her face ass she fled the establishment. Stupid girl, stop crying, she scolded herself. When she had glanced at the elf nervously when her brother still remained out of reach, the look on his face was pure fury. How dare she fall for him, the look had said. How dare she embarrass him with this.


	2. Chapter 2

**I do not own Dragon Age. I make no profit from this work.**

"Hawke! Hawke, slow down! Maker, you're fast!" Anders called after her.

"Go away!" she shouted, running through Lowtown. "Just bug off, this has nothing to do with you!"

He finally caught up to her and caught her around the waist, turning her to face him. "You're. . . my friend. I want to make sure you're alright."

"Of course I'm not!" she spat angrily, blue eyes almost glowing. "I have a demon after me! Everyone depends on me for everything! The whole city rides on my shoulders and no one even gives me the courtesy to let my business be mine! Now, if you would kindly let go, I would like to go back to the estate and have a proper bath before crying myself to sleep and going back to the routine dismemberments come morning." She pulled herself roughly from his hold and continued a furious pace back to the estate.

"Doesn't really hold anything back, does she?" Anders muttered to himself.

Gone was the Hawke filled with sorrow and regret. When she entered the front door of the Amell estate, she was only filled with blind rage. She slammed the door behind her, causing the dwarves and elves in the entryway to jump. Oh, right, Orana. And. . .

"Fenris?" Hawke hissed. At his expression, hers softened. "What are you doing here?"

"I. . . wanted to talk to you about Hadriana. About what happened. I took out my anger on you. Undeservedly so. I was not myself. I'm sorry," he said quietly. "Is there a place we may speak privately?"

"If it is about earlier, I understand. You don't have to say anything. Please, just go," she nearly whimpered.

"I brought a bottle of Aggregio. I was hoping. . . we could talk," he started slowly.

Hawke closed her eyes and just sighed, waiting a moment before climbing the stairs to head to her bed chamber. She heard him follow lightly on bare feet, nothing but the slight sound of his armor giving a creak to alert her of his presence. Once she reached the door, she turned to him. "Why do you persist, demon? I always decline. Find another victim, it will not be me."

"Demon?" Fenris was startled by the accusation and took a step back.

"I know what you are. Just move on. Your visions are no longer even believable," she spat, taking the staff from her back.

"You intend to turn on me, thinking I am a demon? Very well, I will go," he replied sharply before turning.

"Are you. . . really Fenris? I don't even know any more," she admitted.

"It no longer matters, there it's nothing for me here."

"Don't go," Hawke whimpered, grabbing his arm, causing his lyrium brands to ignite. "Let us talk. Please."

Fenris nodded and followed her. Within a few minutes, they were seated at a small table, sipping wine straight from the bottle.

"I had no idea where you went earlier. I stopped by your mansion after we got back and you weren't there. I was worried about you," she admitted.

"I. . . needed to be alone," he began, "When I was still a slave, Hadriana was a torment. She would ridicule me, deny my meals, hound my sleep."

Sounds like Mother, Hawke thought, but she dare not say it. "Because of her status, I was powerless to stop it and she knew it. The thought of her slipping out of my grasp now, I wanted to but I couldn't."

"You wanted to?" Hawke inquired after taking a long pull from the bottle before handing it back to the elf.

"This hate," he started, "I thought I had gotten away from it. But it dogs me no matter where I go. To feel it again. To know it was they who put it inside me, its too much to bear." He picked at the label of the bottle nervously, not meeting Hawke's gaze. "No matter," he said, standing. "I didn't come to burden you further."

"You don't have to go," Hawke insisted quickly, grabbing for his arm and sending him aglow once more.

"Hawke-"

Her words flooded from her mouth and spewed out before she could stop it. "Earlier, at the Hanged Man, I'm sorry you were uncomfortable. I don't expect-"

She was tossed out of her chair and onto the plush rug, pinned with he wrists next to her head as his lips assaulted hers. "I have waited so long for this," he growled against her before nipping at her bottom lip.

He tore off his armor covering his hands after noticing the lines of crimson he was pressing into her wrists and he straddled her waist, pinning her once more. "You want this?" she asked meekly. He only growled and pressed himself against her, allowing her to feel his length through his leggings.

Fenris nipped and suckled at every tender spot along her neck and shoulder, leaving angry red marks in his wake before attacking her lips with bruising force. "How could any man not want this? They would have to be daft," he spoke.

"Then all the men I have ever met have been idiots," She said sadly.

Fenris made a nose deep in his throat, a growl so animalistic it sent a burning hot heat straight to her core. He tore her robes down the front with only his hands before kneading the mounds beneath her breast band. That too was torn away, leaving her laying on the fine rug in nothing but a pair of linen smalls.

"Perhaps we could move to the bed?" Hawke suggested. He helped her to stand and watched her move toward the four poster, enraptured by the curve of her backside. He skived her from behind, bending her over the mattress to feel her rounded rear with his hands. He removed his own clothing before ripping away the last scrap of hers and plunging inside her with a wolvish howl.

Hawke gasped at the intrusion, grasping at the sheets at Fenris set a punishing pace, thrusting violently within her. To say she didn't enjoy it would be a lie, but worry tugged at the edge of her mind. She pushed it back for the time and allowed him to continue his ministrations. His hands left her hips, one to find the pearl hidden within her folds and the other gripping the chub of her stomach.

White light blinded her when his teeth met her shoulder and she pulsed around him, holding back a scream. He continued for several minutes longer as she melted beneath him, whimpering softly, before he released within her. They lay there for a while before moving under the covers, Hawke curled into the elf's side before being pulled into the Fade.

. . .

Stupid, stupid, stupid. It was better off the way things were before. She should have just let him go, should not have begged him to stay. She couldn't blame him for what happened. She couldn't blame him for leaving her after, not after every man she had been with had done the same. There must have been something wrong with her. Well, there was, she was. . .fat, but he looked past it, and by the way he had kneaded her flesh she assumed he enjoyed it. Apparently not enough.

Only about two hours had passed before she felt the bed shift. She had brushed it off at first, he needed to use the chamber pot. But the rustling kept her up, the tiny clink of buckles. She shot up out of fear. Maker, no, please.

"Fenris?" she asked timidly.

He turned to her and his knit brows softened at her expression. He had to leave, sort things it. A much as he would like to stay, he couldn't get the images out of his head.

"Was it that bad?" She whispered.

Fenris shook his head. "I'm sorry. It's. . . it was fine."

Fine. So there is something wrong with her. What was she doing wrong? He must have seen the realization twist her face because he continued.

"No, that is insufficient. It was better than anything I could have dreamed."

Even against the fire light, Hawke could see the faint glow of his lyrium. "Was it your markings?" She asked, hopeful. "Do they hurt?" Please don't let it be me.

"It's not that. I began to remember. . . my life before. Just flashes," Hawke sat up and wrapped the sheet around herself, watching him pace by the fireplace. "This is too much. Too fast, I cannot do this."

"I. . .understand," she managed to choke out, her eyes beginning that familiar tingle letting her know the tears weren't far behind.

"I've never remembered anything from before the ritual. There were faces, words. In a moment I could recall everything and in a flash it was all gone."

"We could. . .try again?" she asked, hopeful.

His eyes narrowed. "You don't know how upsetting this is." I do. I do know. "I've never been able to remember anything and to have it all come back in a rush only to loose it. . . I can't. I can't."

"We could work through this. I-i care about you," Hawke stuttered.

"I'm sorry," he winced, turning from her. Knowing he would not stay, she let the tears flow down her face. "I feel like such a fool," he whispered. "All I wanted was to be happy. Just for a little while. Forgive me."

He didn't even look at her before he left and she let the shame fill her. This should have never happened, she shouldn't have pushed him to it. Now it was all ruined, and she was left alone. He used her, just like everyone else. What he said was a lie. He just used her out of convenience just like everyone else. Just like the demon said he would.


	3. Chapter 3

**I don't own Dragon Age. I don't make any profit from this work.**

He couldn't even look at her, not after last night. She came by, dragging the abomination behind her into his mansion. She usually came alone; apparently she didn't want to be alone with him. For good reason, he supposed. He had to turn away from her when he was telling her he was leaving, the expression on her face had just been too much. He hated hurting her, it was never his intention, but it was done and seeing her here now with stone etched to her face and a lingering sadness in her eyes was too much to bear.

"What do you want?" he growled.

Her eyes narrowed and she turned to leave but the abomination caught her arm. "She wants your help. Problems at Sundermount. We need some muscle and Carver has disappeared."

"I'll just hire a few mercenaries," Hawke mumbled, pulling free of Anders and heading down the stairs.

"Look, I don't know how you feel about the whole journal thing, and honestly I don't care," Anders started when he was sure Hawke was out of ear shot. "She nearly ran off to take care of this quest alone when I suggested we enlist you. Whatever you're feeling, push it aside if you value her friendship even a little."

Fenris sighed and shook his head to shift his white locks from his eyes. So she hadn't said anything about their night together. Anders thought this was about her journal confession.

"You're a lucky man for her to feel like that about you. If. . . you don't feel the same, let her down gently. She is already on edge," Anders begged.

Fenris snarled. "So you don't know what happened?" he spat. "You don't know how I came to her and fucked her like a whore?!" He backed Anders against the wall, lyrium brands glowing. "She didn't tell you how I left her there after, begging me to stay?" And then Fenris looked up at the mage from his back, Anders glowing slightly with the Fade.

Fenris remained on the floor, looking up at the crumbling ceiling as the mage's footsteps died out. What possessed him to say that? He knew that wasn't how he felt about last night. He had wanted her for years, stood by her and ached for her, even though she was a mage. She had given her friendship freely, been open with him, laughed with him, did everything in her power to help him. After last night, all he wanted was to remember his life before the lyrium, but now all he wanted was to be by her side. He didn't deserve it, not after what he did, and Fenris wanted to be punished for it.

It would be two weeks tomorrow since the Night, and Fenris' unexpected arrival at the Hanged Man the week previous had Hawke on edge. Just when she was feeling decent and ready to move on, he waltzed in and acted like nothing had ever happened. No one had known what happened but the healer, and his arrival had been delayed by a late trickle of patients fresh from the Bone Pit. Everyone welcomed the elf in, pressing him about his recent absence while Hawke sat in stunned silence, palms sweating and hands clutching her cards so hard that Varric told her she wools need to replace the deck.

"I'm not feeling too swell," she had said. "I'm going to pay Anders a visit."

She tried so hard not to look at Fenris, but his eyes were glued to her as she left. She did find Anders, sending his last patient out the door. He was smiling warmly at the man who was pressing a few coppers into the mages palm to show his thanks.

"Hawke. This is unexpected," he said as he spotted her. "I thought you would be playing cards with-"

"He came to the Hanged Man," she interrupted. Silence passed between them and Anders just closed his eyes and nodded. He had not told her everything that had passed between him and the elf, just told her that he knew what transpired between her and Fenris and she had no one else to confide in when the tattooed Tevinter appeared again. "He acted like nothing happened," she continued.

"Why not ask him to leave?" Anders asked, placing his implements into a small bin and starting to fold many of the linens. Hawke picked up the task as well, finding little comfort in the silence that followed.

"I still want him as a friend," she said finally. "I was the one that ruined everything. If I hadn't had a stupid crush on him, this wouldn't have-"

"Its not your fault and you know it, Hawke," Anders said as he brushed away tears with the pad of his thumb that she wasn't aware had fallen. "He took advantage. You deserve better."

She had pressed forward and kissed him. She wasn't entirely sure why, she had never had feelings like this for Anders before. She pressed herself to him, but he pushed her away lightly, holding her by the shoulders.

"You deserve better," he said again before encasing her in his arms, cradling her head in his chest as she openly sobbed.

"Why does no one want me?" she wailed, voice cracked and pebbled from her tears.

"That isn't it, Hawke," he said softly, patting her back.

"Am I so repulsive that I-"

"Stop that," Anders flared, stepping back from her and gripping her chin for her to face him. Her eyes remained squeezed shut and he jerked her chin. "Look at me, Hawke. You're not repulsive. Don't think like that. Don't let what he did to destroy you."

"It's not just him. It's everyone. Every man, every last one! Like I'm just a whore, they just leave, except I don't even get anything out of it!" she spat at him. "You wouldn't do that, Anders, would you? You wouldn't leave," she said softly, stepping closer to him. He held her by the shoulders firmly at arms length.

"You don't want this. You don't want me. You're just seeking approval from someone. Anyone. And you will regret it." She tried to pull free of him, but he held firm. "Listen to me, Hawke. I care for you, like a sister. I don't want you hurt. Don't dwell on this, alright? Don't think about him. If he wants to stay in the group, we need the sword. Carver hasn't been around in a while. But he will just be another hired sword. But don't approach him, just forget about him. He will do the same thing again and again and I can't bear to watch you get hurt."

Hawke sniffled. "Is it so wrong to just want to be happy? To stop fighting and just be with someone?"

"We all feel like that. These are hard times, and I'm sorry. If things were different- No, lets not think like that. You have your friends. And your Mother, brother. We all care about you, even if we show it in strange ways. Just remember that you're not alone. And if you're on need of. . . other comforts, I hear there's an establishment in Hightown for that."

Hawke blushed and shied away from the other mage. "You know that was a joke, right?" he laughed lightly.

But she had considered it. Maker forbid, she had even set up an appointment at the brothel. Fifteen soverigns for the entire night, until dawn. Apparently, the only way for a man to stay an entire night with her was if she paid for it.

"Mother, have you seen my red scarf?" Marian asked, exhaustion evident in her voice.

"I have not. Check with Bodhain and see if it was with the laundry. If it were up to me, that ratty old thing would have been tossed already," Leandra said absently.

Hawke sighed. "I already checked with him. I guess its not terribly important, but I like to have something of Father's with me."

"I'm sure it will show eventually. Where are you off to at this hour?" Her mother asked.

"Out," was all Hawke said. It really wasn't all that late, but it was not a night for the Hanged Man and she didn't have any late night quests to complete. Let her mother think she was just clearing out ruffians from the streets; if she knew what she was really up to, her blood would run cold.


	4. Chapter 4

**I do not own Dragon Age. I make no profit from this work.**

Why did he feel the need to take it from her? He knew she would miss it, she had worn it nearly every day, but it was one of the first things he had noticed about her. She always wore it and it clashed with her vibrant blue eyes. He just needed something of hers, needed to find something to stay connected to her.

Fenris held the scarf to his face and breathed in her scent, something sweet and herbal, and he fought the urge to go back to her and beg her forgiveness. He didn't deserve it, he didn't deserve her. How did he get in so deep? She just drew everyone to her naturally. She was beautiful and personable with a light humor always present even in the darkest of times. That night in the Hanged Man, he expected her to have a lighthearted fight with her brother, but when her feelings toward him were recited, he wanted to jump for joy, but the look on her face was pure terror.

And he jumped and went to her. Their relationship was already strained, he snapped at her earlier in the day, denied all comfort she offered him, but he went to her and got totally and completely lost within her. When his memories came, it was so confusing and it wasn't fair to stay while distracted. He needed these memories, and she deserved someone completely devoted to her and he just could not be.

The look on her face. Oh, the look on her face. So utterly broken, and it was because of him. He couldn't face her after that, there was no way, but it was torture being without her. When she arrived with the abomination, his heart momentarily soared. Maybe she would forgive him.

And there was that look again. She couldn't even look at him. Her eyes were downcast and she stumbled through the mansion like a zombie. Anders glare pinned him. It was then that he knew they came to punish him. He deserved it. He deserved so much more than they were prepared to give so he goaded Anders into hurting him, but it still wasn't enough.

He stole from her. He shouldn't be allowed to keep this, to keep any part of her but he needed it. He tied it to his wrist and referenced the buckles of his armor over it, a frayed edge sticking through the gap.

He couldn't apologize. He could never ask for her forgiveness, so he went to the tavern to say that she would have his sword if she ever had need of it. When he arrived, he could say nothing. The words were caught in his throat, even more so when he saw what just his presence did to her.

"Where you been, Broody?" Varric had asked. Fenris just grunted and watched as Hawke excused herself.

He wanted her. So damn bad, but how could he just go back? No, he didn't deserve it.

. . .

"I've never done this before," Hawke said nervously, still in her armor and standing nervously in her booked room at the Blooming Rose.

"Hmm," Jethann murmured, "I think we should start with the basics. What is your flavor?"

"My-my what?!" Hawke stammered.

"You know, are you vanilla? Or do you like things hot?" He replied, wagging his eyebrows.

"I don't know! This was a bad idea. I- I should go," she stuttered, turning to the door.

"There are no refunds, sweetling. Just as a friendly reminder."

"Rough," she said quickly. "That's. . . that's how I want it. From behind."

"And you booked the whole night for this? Can your body take it?" Jethann purred, brushing his fingertips across the exposed flesh of her arm.

"No," she whimpered before turning to him. "When I can't. . . take anymore. . . just lay with me."

"So you are paying for a quick fuck and a cuddle? Not that it is any of my business but-"

"You're right, it's not," she said curtly, an iciness settling in her eyes. "That's what I want. Don't- don't question it, don't say anything to anyone about this. Got it?"

Jethann nodded. "As you desire," he growled before pulling her into a bruising kiss. She returned it eagerly, eyes squeezed shut and imagining another elf's hands on her, discarding her armor and pulling away her clothing. He bent her over the desk, sending the inkwell and several papers to the floor. Props, more than likely, to add effect to situations such as this. The corner of the desk bit into her thigh and Jethann pulled her head up by her hair to sink his teeth into her flesh.

"Should you require me to stop, say the word Thedas, and it shall end," he whispered huskily, nipping at her earlobe. She nodded and allowed him to manipulate her body, leaving a path of teeth marks on her shoulders and neck, claw marks down her arms, her head yanked back by her hair as he slammed into her from behind.

His frame was so similar to Fenris, but his member was so different. They had the same length, each thrust sending him pounding against her cervix, but Fenris was much thicker and the absence of girth shattered the illusion. "Harder," she begged, "Hurt me."

He slapped her ass, still thrusting mercilessly within her. His other hand gripped her breast, causing her to whimper in pain. "More," she pleaded when he lightened his grip. He complied, doubling his efforts to cause her pain. He pinched her nipples, spanked her until her round globes were red and raw, used his teeth to make marks on her skin that were nearly black and still she begged for more.

When he retired to pull her to the bed, she collapsed in the floor and shook her head. "I don't deserve the bed," she whimpered. He gave her a devious grin and pushed her on all fours, the stone floor biting into her knees. Jethann kneeled on a pillow as he pounded into her again, using enough force to send her sprawling on the floor, tender breasts joining her knees in agony.

"What a little slut you are," he commented, "So loose. Maybe we'll play in another hole so you can actually feel it." He pressed his finger into the tightened ring of muscles, slowing his pace slightly. She did not protest, just whimpered lightly, her upper half limp on the floor.

"Even here, your greedy body takes my fingers so easily," he snarled, gripping her hair by the back of her neck and lifting her to growl into her ear. "No wonder your mother hasn't had you married off yet. You'll never make a proper wife."

"-das," she choked out, sobbing, "Thedas! Stop please!"

He complied. His thrusting ceased and he gently ran his hands over her sides and back, rubbing and kneading in a comforting gesture. She buried her face in her arms, sobbing on the floor, Jethann, still within her but unmoving as to not shock her body.

"Shh," he coaxed, still moving his hands over her body. "Shh, it's alright. Just a game. We stopped playing now, it's over." He had played a similar game with other clients and it was nothing new to bring them back down from the edge. "I'm going to withdraw now, alright sweetling? Then we'll lay on the bed."

Hawke just nodded and the man pulled from her, careful to maintain contact with his hands. He helped her into the bed and pulled the covers over them as she pressed her face into his chest.

"Do you want to talk?" he asked. Sometimes it would help with some of the others. They would talk and then their act was softer, more pleasurable. He preferred those acts over this. Purposely causing someone harm felt wrong, even if they asked for it. She shook her head. "May I please you?"

"No," she said quickly. "That was exactly what I wanted. Just. . . please just hold me."

"Of course."


	5. Chapter 5

I do not own Dragon Age and make no profit from this work.

Fenris watched her from the rooftop as she left the brothel in the early hours of the morning. What reason would she have to be there, alone? She walked sluggishly toward home- no, she made a turn toward Lowtown. Where was she going?

Before he knew it, Fenris was trailing behind her in the shadows, careful to keep enough distance that she wouldn't notice him following. She took another turn, heading toward Darktown. Perhaps she was just running potions for the abomination. She stumbled and a swarm of bandits swept in, and Fenris didn't have time to think before he drew his sword and drove them off.

"What are you doing here?" she spat, lifting herself out of the dirt.

"You're welcome."

"I asked you a question," she snapped, shoving him.

Fenris caught her wrists in her hands and pinned her to the wall of the closest building. "I just saved your life and all you can think to do is ask me why?"

Hawke closed her eyes tightly and looked away from him. "Why would you care?"

"Hawke. Hawke! Look at me," he commanded.

"Just leave," she whispered.

"I'm not going yup ask your forgiveness, Hawke. Quite frankly, I don't deserve it," Fenris admitted.

"Damn right you don't!" Anders shouted, barreling into the elf and shoving him away from her.

"Get your hands off me, mage!"

Anders pushed him away and went back to Hawke, who was now slumped against the wall. "Maker, your neck! What happened?" He turned to the elf. "What did you do to her? What the fuck did you do to her?!" He closed in on him, blue glowing through inhuman cracks in his skin as his hand closed around the elf's neck.

"Anders!" Hawke sobbed. "He didn't do anything! Put him down! Anders! She clawed at his arm, trying to pull the fingers from the other man's throat. "Anders, please!" She wailed and shoved all her weight into him. "Justice! Don't kill him!"

The glow ceased and Fenris dropped to the ground like a rock. Hawke scrambled to him, cradling his head in her hands and making sure he was responsive. "He didn't do it," she said again to Anders.

"Then who? Hawke, your neck-"

"That is my business. I was heading to see you, for healing," she explained. "I was distracted and fell. Bandits. . . and then Fenris was there and he drove them off."

The elf's breathing became less strained and he pulled out of Hawke's grasp. "Next time, a thank you would suffice," he said bitterly before storming off.

"Come on," Anders gestured, "Lets get you fixed up. And you will tell me what happened or you will get no treatment from me."  
"How did you know-"

"You would have to be deaf not to hear your reunion. Besides, I've been up," Anders explained, interrupting Hawke as he led her to his clinic.

"The Underground?"

Anders nodded. "I know you don't want to get involved-"

"Just be safe, Anders. Please. I can't bear to lose my best friend," she pleaded.

"I could say the same to you. What, in Andraste's name, were you doing tonight?" he scolded, unbuckling her armor as she stood before one of the rickety cots. "Maker, Hawke! Did you fight with a wild animal? These marks are-"

"I know," she mumbled and Anders unlaced the top of her tunic to access her neck and shoulders.

"Are you going to tell me what happened?"

"I'd rather not."

"Then no treatment for you," he said with an unamused scoff.

"Fine," she hissed, scrambling from the cot and collecting her pauldrons in her arms. "I'll just suffer through."

Anders caught her by the arm and she hissed in pain. "What happened, Hawke? Who did this to you?"

Hawke whimpered and tried to get free of his grasp, but his grip only tightened. "Anders let me go!"

"Just tell me, Hawke. Are you alright?"

"No! I'm not!" she screamed at him. "I went to the Rose. And I paid someone to do this. Is that what you wanted to hear? That I paid someone to fuck me and bite me and taunt me until I was a crying mess on the floor!"

"Hawke-"

"The only reason he didn't leave was because I paid him. I paid him to just hold me for the rest of the night because no one else seems to want to!"

"That's not-"

"I enjoyed it, every second. And you know something, I plan on doing it again. It was worth the fifteen soverigns."

"Maker, Hawke," Anders mumbled, pulling her into a tight embrace. "You can't do this to yourself. Its not healthy. Please."

"Make the pain go away," she begged, "Make it all go away."

He held her tightly, slightly rocking to the sides. He lowered his chin to rest on the top of her head and she discarded her armor to the floor before burying her face in his neck. "I can't get rid of the pain you want me to, and you know that," he said. Hawke just let out a hmm of agreement. "Don't let it get to you like that. I'm always around if you need me. You know that. Please, if you feel like that again, come to me." She nodded against him. "Let's get you fixed up. You know I can't heal the bruises, just speed them along."

Anders helped her sit on the cot and absently went to work grinding herbs while she fiddled with the frayed edge of the bed linens. "Have you been taking herbs?"

"Herbs?" she asked. "For what?"

"To prevent. . . unwanted. . . Maker, Hawke, you haven't been?"

"Men use powders-"

"Marchers don't. It's hard to come by here, Hawke," Anders said sternly.

When the words sunk in, she paled. "You mean. . ."

"You still have enough time, it just happened. Here, chew this," he instructed, handing her a slightly dried leafy herb.

"With. . . with Fenris. . . Maker, no," she whimpered.

Anders sighed and turned away from the young woman. "I need to know when your last cycle was."

Hawke thought for a moment. "I don't know. Four weeks ago? Maybe five. I told you before that it has never been regular."

"Hmm," Anders mused before clicking his tongue on the roof of his mouth. He downed a lyrium potion before sending a healing spell over her and took a quick scan of her body. Again, he turned from her. "It's best you leave the herbs. You should go home. Get some sleep. We will discuss-"

"I'm pregnant." It wasn't a question. Anders nodded. "What do i-"

"Go home. Get some sleep. Don't make any decisions now. Hawke, I'll help you, however I can. You know that. But you need to go home and think about what you want to do," Anders said calmly, still not looking at her.

"I don't want it," she said quickly.

"Just one day, Hawke. Just think on it for one day. I'll have the potion brewed for you within a fortnight if that is what you really want."

"I don't want it," she said again.

"It will still take me two days to brew the potion. Go home. This should help you sleep," he said, handing her a vial of deep purple liquid. She just stared at him. "Go!" he yelled and she flinched. "Get out! Go home! Leave!"

"Fuck you, Anders!" she spat, snatching the vial from his hands and jumping off the cot.

"Everyone else has had a go at you, so why not?" He spat right back. Her eyes narrowed and she pushed past him. "Hawke," he said, following her. "Hawke! I didn't mean it! Hawke!"

"Leave me alone, Anders! Just leave me alone!"

"Why him? Just tell me. Why did it have to be him?"

Hawke left, not even giving a glance back at her friend. 


	6. Chapter 6

**I do not own Dragon Age and make no profit from this work.**

_Reviews are awesome._

"Templars, Carver?!" Hawke shouted, shoving into her brother. "You're going to become one of them? You little tit!" Another shove and Carver just stood there.

"Marian! Language!" Leandra scolded.

"He's going to join the templars, Mother. Don't you know what that means? His job is to hunt mages. Mages like me!"

"You can only think of yourself, can't you?" Carver finally responded.

"I don't need this right now. Go! Just fucking go! Don't ever step within this house again! Leave! Why are you still standing here?" Hawke shoved at her brother. "You know just how to ruin everything! Worthless, always. You weren't there when Father died, you were off in the barn fucking Peaches. You had me take the blame when Beth died!"

"That wasn't anyones fault!" He countered.

"Yet you had no problem letting mother pin the guilt on me and me alone," she hissed.

Leandra moved to butt in, but Hawke waved her away. "Who made the deal with Flemith to save our assess? I did. Who worked for both Meeran and Athenril from sunrise to sunrise for a year so we could get into Kirkwall and you could take care of Mother? I did!"

"Sister-"

"I have given up EVERYTHING to take care of you and Mother. I have risked my life time and time again to make sure you were well taken care of. And what to I get in return? You spill all my secrets to MY friends. MY friends, not yours. You leave for two fucking weeks. I have no muscle for two fucking weeks!"

"What about Fenris?" Carver growled.

Hawke paled, stopped cold before running up the stairs, taking two or three at a time. She slammed the door of her bedchamber behind her.

Hawke uncorked the bottle Anders had given her and downed it in one swig. She had just enough time to remove her armor and undress to her undergarments before the sleeping draught hit her full force.

. . .

"Is Hawke at home?" Anders asked her brother, still standing stiffly in the main hall a few minutes after she retired to her bedroom.

"Where is the elf?" Carver redirected.

Anders hung his head. "So you know then. She isn't planning on keeping it-"

"Keeping it? Keeping what?" Carver bellowed. "What? Marian-"

"Nothing, Carver. Forget I said anything," the mage quickly insisted. "I need to speak with Hawke."

"What. Did. The Elf. Do?"

"Carver-"

"What did he do to her?"

"It's not my story to tell."

"Did he. . . she's not planning on keeping it? Is she," Carver dropped his voice, "Is my sister pregnant?"

"It's not my story to tell," Anders repeated.

"I'll fucking kill him!"

"Carver stop!" Anders shouted, grabbing the younger man as he tried to storm out of the estate. "Let me collect my things. I'm going with you."

. . .

"Why won't she wake up?" Carver asked, shaking his sister's shoulder.

"I gave her a sleeping aid earlier," Anders sighed.

"Is that safe for-"

"Shut up, elf," Carver spat.

Carver and Anders had arrived at Fenris's dilapidated mansion just a few hours previous. Fenris was opening a bottle of wine with the intention of forgetting himself within the bottle.

"What the fuck did you do to my sister?!" Carver had barreled in on him.

Fenris' eyes had narrowed. "She wanted it," he growled, taking a long pull from the bottle.

Carver pulled out of the mage's grasp, who until then had been attempting to hold him back, and swung at the former slave, hitting him square in the jaw with a sickening crack.

"Carver-" the mage began.

"Is that all you got, boy?!" Fenris taunted, sitting up from the floor where the blow had knocked him. He wiped at the trickle of blood out of the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand.

"You sick fuck!" Carver yelled at him, "You took advantage of her feelings for you," the mage once again gripped his arm, holding him back from hitting the elf with another blow.

"She enjoyed it," Fenris said again, "She was panting for me like a bitch in heat."

This time it was Ander's fist that met his face, breaking his nose with a stomach turning pop. "I guess you are just a wild dog."

"You got Mari knocked up!" Carver shouted, aiming a kick for the Tevinter's stomach.

Fenris's eyes went wide before the boot met with his abdomen. He clutched his stomach and let it an agonized noise. "She. . . she's what?" he moaned in pain.

"Pregnant. She's pregnant," Anders repeated, clutching the younger man before he kicked him again.

Fenris sat up and his eyes narrowed, "She was with someone else. Who says it's mine?"

Justice pushed the younger Hawke out of the way before pulling the crippled elf up by the throat and pinned him to the wall, Fenris gasping for air. "Even if it was a possibility, you were the one who drove her to seek out that abuse. The blame still lies with you."

"Abuse?" Carver echoed. "What are you talking about?"

"This dog drove her to seek out someone to hurt her," Justice replied, letting the elf drop to the floor, struggling to breathe as Anders returned.

"Is. . . she," Fenris coughed, "Is she alright?"

"Of course she's not, you mongrel," Carver hissed.

"For what it's worth," Fenris started, still gasping, "I never meant to hurt her."

"You little-"

"Please," the elf pleaded, "Hear me out. I deserved every bit of pain you caused me, but I could not go back."

Carver bristled. "Damn right you deserved it, and then some!"

"Speak," Anders growled.

"I've. . . adored her. For years. She became. . . my closest friend and the center of my world. And the night at the Hanged Man when her journal was read, I needed to see her. I needed more. Maybe we could be happy," Fenris started, slumping into his seat near the hearth.

"You expect us to believe-"

Carver was interrupted by the mage holding his palm up as a gesture for him to hault. "Let him speak."

"Than-thank you," Fenris stuttered. "It was amazing and-"

"I don't want to hear about how you fucked my sister!"

"This better be going somewhere," Anders added.

"The memories of my life before flooded my mind. And then they were gone just as quickly as they came. I needed to sort it out and-"

"You left her," Anders said dully.

Fenris nodded. "I didn't mean to hurt her the way I did. The way she started panicking- I knew there was no going back. I can't even apologize, there is no reason to forgive me. I . . . care for her. She deserves better."

"Hate to bust in on the reunion, but Gamlen says Leandra is missing and no one can wake Hawke," Varric announced, Bianca in hand.

. . .

"How do I even begin to tell her? How can I say that Mother is gone?" Carver asked Anders while still cradling his mother's pieced together corpse.

The past several hours were spent hunting down clues and finding the twisted blood mage's lair. The fight that ensued was difficult without Marian's usual tactics and the band of misfits found themselves struggling to just stay conscious.

"You'll find a way," Varric told him, clapping him on the shoulder.

"She deserves a proper funeral," Anders mumbled. "And the others here as well."

"Mari is going to be alone now," Carver muttered.

"What are you saying?" Anders snapped.

"I've been recruited into the templars," he mumbled. "I only came home to grab-"

"You're leaving her alone?" Fenris yelled. "Your mother just died, she's already feeling-"

"Because of you!" Carver spat back. "If you didn't fuck her up and knock her up, she would have taken care of-"

"Wait, wait!" Varric shouted, standing between the two. "What did I miss here? Hawke is-"

Anders stepped in. "Pregnant, yes."

Varric looked between the three, "And Broody is-"

Again, Anders cut in. "The father, yes."

"Nug shit."

"We should get back. Check on Hawke," Fenris said, already halfway out into the tunnel leading back.

"Don't write about this," Anders demanded, firmly planting his hand on the dwarf's shoulder. "No one needs to know about this."

"So she's not-"

"Not a word, Varric."

...

Carver and Varric seperated from the group to report the incident to Aveline while Fenris hurried ahead to the Hawke estate, Anders struggling to keep up with him.

"Fenris! Fenris!" Anders called. "She doesn't want to see you, you'll just make things worse."

The elf spun on his heels and slammed into the mage. "No matter what happened between us, I need to be there for her now. I have to. I can't let her be alone."

"She won't be. I won't let her," Anders declared.

"I won't fight with you over this. If she asks me to leave, I will, but I will give everything in power to keep her safe."

"Safe? Fuck's sake, elf, you're the one-"

"I know. And I will spend my life making up for it. I will make sure the child-"

"She's not keeping it," Anders spat, pushing the elf out of his way as he entered the estate.

"Messure Hawke is. . . the healer, quickly!" Bodhain stammered, running from the upstairs balcony.

"What's wrong? Is she-"

"She woke up screaming. She's bleeding and-"

"Move. Hot water, towels, lyrium if you can find it," Anders belted out orders. "Go! Now!"

"What's wrong?" Fenris asked, finally joining the mage in the entryway.

"I suspect her body has rejected the babe," Anders sighed, rushing up the stairs.


	7. Chapter 7

I do not own Dragon Age and make no profit from this work.

"Out!" Anders snapped when Fenris attempted to follow him into Hawke's bedchamber.

Fenris's expression hardened. "I am staying."

"No! You can't take it!" Hawke screamed, writhing on the bed. "No!"

"Hawke!" Fenris slipped past the mage and approached the thrashing woman. Her face was flushed and damp from sweat, her eyes open but unresponsive and blank. The bed clothes had been thrown from the bed and laid in a heap on the floor, and the sheets that remained were soaked with blood- blood that originated from the apex of Hawke's thighs, soaking through her small clothes and pooling on the bed beneath her. Her thrashing had sent much of it splattering. The droplets on her stomach was nearly black against her pale skin. "I am staying, and it looks like you need someone to hold her still."

Fenris went to grasp her flailing arms to hold her still before he realized he still wore the spiked armor. He quickly discarded as much as he could, tearing the leather and sending buckles flying in his haste. Dodging her arms, he positioned himself behind her at the headboard, pulling her into his lap and holding her arms still- no easy feat, bruises were already forming from the force needed to restrain her.

During the entire ordeal, Hawke never stopped screaming, repeating, "You can't take it!", "No!", and "You're not him!"

"Bodhain, where are those towels?" Anders called angrily out the door. He pulled up a chair at the foot of the bed and darted out to grab the young woman's ankles, thwarted several times in his attempts by particularly violent kicks. "Move her down the bed. Hold her legs, not her arms. Apart, knees bent."

"No!" Hawke screamed again when Fenris' hands closed on her ankles. "No! Don't touch me! You're not him! You can't take it from me!"

Fenris positioned her as Anders instructed and Bodhain arrived shortly after with the requested towels and hot water. Sandal hung in the doorway, wide eyed and Bodhain snatched the vials if lyrium from him and set them near the healer, quickly ushering his son away from the gruesome scene. "Hawke, calm down," Fenris growled, chasing after an ankle that had kicked out of his grip before closing his fingers over it once more.

At one point in time, he would have been excited to hold her legs spread while she screamed beneath him, watching the swell of her mounds heave and her fluffy stomach sway slightly with each movement. This situation was heartbreaking to take in. She was pregnant, with his child, and losing the baby in a very painful way.

"She can't hear you," Anders said icily, cutting away her small clothes. Anger roared within Fenris at Anders' current view, but he pushed the feeling back. "She's suck in the Fade."

"Then what-"

"We take care of her physical form. Pray she can get herself out and send someone to Sundermount to get the Keeper in the case she can't," Anders explained, probing Hawke's opening and sending his magic out to feel for any physical ailments. "Hold her by the knees," he ordered, "Tilt her pelvis up. She's losing the babe, but we're losing Hawke along with it."

Fear shot through Fenris and he numbly followed Anders instructions. "She's-"

"She is going to die if we don't get it out!" Anders bellowed, voice echoing through the chamber and out into the hall.

Several hours later, Anders had Hawke in a stable condition. The sheets had been changed, the blood and sweat cleaned away, and most importantly, the babe was lost. Hawke grew silent toward the end, breathing shallow and limbs limp. Anders had saved her, but she had not awoken. A group had been sent to Sundermount to retrieve the keeper and see if she could assist.

Fenris never left Hawke's side. He sat with her head in his lap, holding tight to her hand, looking down at her for any sign that she would awaken. Anders had left the room, uneasy about leaving the unconscious Hawke. After witnessing the elf's newfound devotion, he knew he would call if there was any change.

Anders was still torn. He wanted to tear into the elf for causing her such pain, but at the same time he knew there was no one more capable to watch over her while he all but collapsed in the study, drained completely from the ordeal. He decided Fenris would be punished later. Once he-

Anders slumped into the seat and quickly fell asleep while Fenris remained upstairs with Hawke. Carver had been sent off with the group to Sundermount after informing Bodhain of Lady Leandra's death. Bodhain had quickly sent a message to Gamlen's, and he had quickly rushed to the estate.

Hawke's uncle had not been completely informed of his niece's condition. He was told that stress caused her a physical ailment and while she was weak, a powerful demon plagued her and she was doing her best to fight it off in her weakened state. This only caused Gamlen to worry further, raiding the wine cellar and pacing the main hall, mumbling how he should have been taking care of his sister, his sister's children, how he might have saved them.

Upstairs, now alone with the young woman, Fenris began speaking to her unconscious form. "He continued to hold her, whispering softly and holding her limp hand within his. "I miss you," he said. "I am such a fool. I never meant to hurt you. Please come back. Please, Hawke." He lifted her hand and kissed her palm before nuzzling his face into her hand. "This is all my fault. I'm sorry. I know I'll never have your forgiveness. I'll never deserve it. But I-I . . . You are my everything, Marian," he kissed her fingers, taking a deep breath to steady himself as his sorrow chipped away at him. "I'll always be by your side, ready to fight for you. I will never leave you again. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

The tears began trickling down his face how he told her about every last moment they had together. "When I first saw you," he said, "I had never seen anyone like you before. A woman who was so soft, who fought so hard. I realized later that evening that you were a mage. I should have been bitter about it, but when you spoke to me I wasn't. I was completely drawn to you. Something cracked in me. I should have left, to escape Danarius, but I had to stay. I had to stay to be close to you."

He leaned down and pressed his lips to her forehead, resting there a minute before continuing. "I don't know anything about. . .love. For all I know, this is obsession. I cannot leave you. Please come back. Wake up, it's just a dream. Please."

She let out a small whimper and shifted in her sleep and Fenris held tight to her hand. "I. . . cannot say enough. I cannot tell you how much I regret leaving that night. I should have stayed. I should have. . . I should have been gentle. I should have shown you the care you deserved. I'm sorry."

Fenris told her sleeping form of every thought he had of her. How badly he wanted to impress her, how delighted he was when she giggled at his sad attempts at flattery. How he would lie awake at night and think of how to ring that giggle out of her again but also how he didn't want to get to close. She shouldn't be tied down to a slave, she needed a man. How every day he was free from Danarius, he grew more terrified he would show and this life with her would disappear.

He told her how terrified he was when he discovered she was going to have a baby. His baby. He sobbed above her when he told her he would love to have a family with her, but they would never be safe if Danarius still lived. She just lay there, whimpering and shifting occasionally, but didn't wake.  
Hawke woke before Keeper Marethari arrived, curled around something delightfully warm. She snuggled into it and winced at the pain in her abdomen before shouting straight up out of the bed.

"Hawke. . ." Fenris mumbled, rubbing his eyes with a fist. "You're awake." He yawned. "I'll go get Anders."

"Why are YOU here," she hissed, attempting to move away from him. "Why are you in my bed?" She tried to stand, but only fell back on the bed, crying out in pain. "Why do I hurt?"

"Let me go get Anders," Fenris insisted before hopping off the bed.

Hawke narrowed her eyes, wrapping the coverlet around her barely clothed form. "You never call him by name," she accused.

"Hawke, I am no demon. He saved your life last night. I am. . . grateful," He said slowly.

"What-"

"He could not save our child," He spat out bitterly. "But he saved you."  
"Fenris-"

"Why didn't you tell me? Why did I have to hear about it from the mage and your brother? Why couldn't you tell me?"

"Because you left!" she screamed.

"You're awake. Good," Anders said stiffly from the doorway. "Lie back down. You're in no condition to be walking about. Fenris, you should-"

The elf slumped into a chair, crossing his arms. "The only way I am leaving is if you carry my cold corpse from this room."

"You choose now to stay," she muttered under her breath.

There was a pause before Fenris spoke again, Anders unwrapping the young woman to take a look at how her health was faring from the ordeal. He healed what he could, but a majority her body would have to deal with on it's own. This was no simple miscarriage.

"There is no bigger regret I have than leaving you that night," Fenris said finally, staring at the wall and not her undressed form.

"There is no bigger regret I have than meeting you," she lashed out.

Anders left wordlessly and no sound filled the room but for the faint rustle as Hawke redressed. "I . . . have no words," Fenris said finally.

"A demon haunts my dreams, wearing your face," she said. "It used my desire for you, my hatred of you. It took my child-"

"The demon? Did you-"

"I killed the demon. In the Fade. But it already had the babe. I didn't want to keep it, it wouldn't have been a good time to have a baby and Mother would have thrown a fit."

"Hawke-"

"Mari, thank the Maker!" Carver burst in, nearly tackling his sister to the bed.

"Ow, Carver! Shit, that hurts!"

"We were so worried. We brought the Keeper, but you already. . . oh Marian, I don't know how to tell you. . . wait, what is HE doing here?" Carver hissed at the stoic elf.

"As I told the mage, you will have to carry my cold corpse away if you wish me to leave her side," he said dully.

"That can be arranged."

"So you know. About the babe," Hawke said to her brother. Carver nodded. "Does mother know?"

"Mari," Carver said slowly. "Mother, she. . . the white lilies."

"She. . . she's been taken?" Hawke shot out of bed, but doubled over in pain. "What are you still doing here? Go find her!"

"Its to late," Carver said, not looking at her.

"What do you mean, Carver?" When he didn't reply, she said it again. "What do you mean it's too late?"

"We were to late," he admitted.

"Too late? Too late for what? Too late for what, Carver? Answer me!"

"Mother died, Mari! We were too late!"

"Too late. . ."

"He was taking women, chopping them to bits, piecing together some. . . some monster to look like his dead love."

Hawke did not speak, just laid back against her pillows. Fenris, quiet in his chair, finally stood and sat beside her on the bed. "She was too far gone, when we arrived," he said. "We tried, but it was a struggle."

"Go!" Hawke screamed at her brother. "Out! Go! Leave!"

"Mari-"

"Just leave!" she screamed before Carver made a swift exit.

"You, too," she said bitterly as Fenris remained seated beside her.

"I will not leave. I will remain silent in the corner if that is what you wish of me, but I will not leave."

Hawke turned her back to him and pulled the coverlet around her and Fenris moved off the bed to sit back in his previous seat.

"Say something," Hawke broke the silence, "Anything."

"They say that death is only a journey. Does that help?"

"Why does everyone in my life leave?" Hawke sobbed. "They either die or just walk away. Why? Its not fair!"

"I am here," he whispered, slowly approaching the bed.

"Don't, Fenris!" she screeched. "Don't even start!"

"Hawke-"

"You're only here because they guilted you into it!"

The bed shifted as he moved toward her. "No! That's not-"

"Stay away from me!" She screamed, striking him across the face. "This is your fault! If you. . .if you hadn't done what you did," she slapped him again and he caught her wrist as she went to hit him with her opposite hand. "Let me go!" she wailed. "If it weren't for you, I could have saved her." 


End file.
